


1D drabble collection

by pocketfullofbees



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, OT5 Friendship, Schmoop, writting collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketfullofbees/pseuds/pocketfullofbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is just my collection of <a href="zayniemajik.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> drabbles I've written, or will write in the future just so I have them in one place. Follow my <a href="zayniemajik.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>  if you want more, or if I haven't updated this yet, that is where they'll be! </p><p>I primarily write ziall but I'm warming up to others so the tags will change as I post more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. close enough to touch

Sometimes Niall, while leaning against Zayn on the bus and playing FIFA or watching Dark Knight for the seventh time this week, realizes just how close he is to Zayn.

Physically,  _sure –_  because being able to watch the sweep of lashes along his olive skin, or the subtle eyebrow twitch when Christian Bale is half naked on screen means you gotta be pretty close. But also emotionally, like a bond that’s tangible and can’t be broken no matter how much he pulled. A tether on stage that is so real; when Zayn grabs his chin, or pushes his thumbs into his shoulders, or when they laugh at the silly signs on stage, that lightness, a static airness of just …  _good._

It’s not new, he thinks. This comfort bubble he has with his friends, Harry, Liam and Louis a like. But with Zayn it’s different. It’s always been.

Zayn turns, grinning at him. He probably knows that Niall’s thinking too hard, which is often enough – and he says, “You’re gunna miss when the Bat mobile turns into a motorcycle.”

“Dude, thats my favourite part!” Niall smiles shy all of a sudden. Sometimes Zayn does that to him.

“I know!” Zayn laughs. “Quit zonin’ off!”

“Sorry,” Niall says but he isn’t. Not sure why though, slowly peeling himself from staring at Zayn to the movie again.

But watching Zayn gives Niall a warm, liquid intimacy he doesn’t understand. Not that he would change it for the world. Those things that are just so  _good._  The feeling of honey in his tummy when he’s happy or warm cookies out of the oven, or coffee in the morning. But right now, Niall isn’t hungry. Right now, he’s outlining Zayn’s beautiful profile again – it’s one of those things.

And Niall doesn’t throw words like that around his head a lot,  _beautiful, gorgeous, unreal_. First because who throws words? Kinda dangerous, don’t you think? But it’s understatedly true. Zayn is so  _something,_  being lit by the bus television and the flashing images that make Zayn’s eyes sparkle. Happens a lot on stage too, but they’re not in front of hundreds of people now. Just them, so Niall doesn’t feel sorry when he watches Zayn lick his lips.

All of a sudden Niall is aware of how warm they probably are. Only inches away, he reckons. He loops his arms around Zayn’s because they’re right there and he can. So he does. Something heavy settles when Zayn doesn’t do anything but tighten his hold and smiles.

He’s silly, a little selfish and probably hungry since his stomach does this weird flip thing when Zayn nudges his side and goes, “Are you even watching?”

Niall laughs to himself when Zayn turns to look at him with his big brown eyes asking and saying different things than his mouth. Things Niall isn’t even sure he’s able to answer. Maybe they aren’t questions at all.

"Yeah! I’m watching, are you  _watching_?” Niall says, just to see Zayn scoff and shake his head, grinning. It’s that smile Zayn shares sometimes when Niall says the right things. It feels precious and just meant for  _Niall_.

Another burst of repose flows through him, head to toe, and swimming in this bubble they’re in. No one can hurt them, no management, no boyfriends, or girlfriends, or stress from the tour. Everything is okay. It’s all good.

Sometimes, when he looks at Zayn, he just wants to kiss him he’s so close. It’s funny though. Not like laughing but just _crazy_ because Zayn is his bestfriend, but Niall likes this too. This intimacy they have.

So when Zayn turns to him again, to maybe ask about all the popcorn thats all gone, or talk about how amazing Health Ledger was and will forever be, Niall won’t know. Because he’s kissing Zayn. And it’s placid and strong, Zayn taking what Niall is giving without question, like Zayn knows.

Maybe Zayn always knew. They were always that close.


	2. keep me clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn shaves Niall, because Niall knows Zayn know's how and is a little jealous.
> 
> \----
> 
> So this was based off a dialog prompt that said, "Can I kiss you?" and I'm obsessed with non-sexual intimacy like cleaning someone, or just sleeping next to someone in bed and it hits my ziall heart string like no ones buisness. 

“Can you stop moving?”   
“Sorry, I’m–sorry!”  
  
Niall tries for a second, he really does. But then he gets a little nervous again, once Zayn inches the blade closer to his shaving cream cover chin, and a fit of giggles wiggles through him. It’s a shitty defense mechanism. Zayn must think so too, if the exasperated sigh means anything. 

“I’m sorry!” Niall weakly lifts his hands up. “I’m just– it’s weird having someone ya’know–”   
“You asked me to!” Zayn laughs, and Niall flinches a little as he waves the shaver around.  
“I know, I know,” he relents, banging his heels on the cupboard underneath the sink. “Just–get on with it!”

“Then”, Zayn fits himself in the place between his knees again. He grabs his chin steadily; something hot boils in Niall’s belly. “Stop moving.”

Niall nods as much as he can with the grip on his chin. “Good,” Zayn says wiping the cream off his fingers. “Just breathe, it’ll be over in like a second–won’t even know.”

Niall takes two deep breathes, shaking his shoulders a bit trying to rid his giddiness. Zayn is right, Niall did ask him to help him shave. Since Niall’s face has been growing more hair than it used too, and Zayn’s been shaving his beautiful beard since X-Factor, he kind of seem the perfect person to ask. Liam and Louis would make it weird and  _I don’t know_  – Niall thinks. 

Zayn glances at him softly again, tilting Niall’s jaw the right way – Zayn just doesn’t make things like this weird. They feel special but in a normal way.  _Zayn, can we-uh have a cuddle tonight? Okay. Zayn, can I have a hug? Okay._  Normal. **  
**

“Breathe,” Zayn says again thumbing Niall’s neck encouragingly. Niall does, and feels a soft scrape as Zayn shaves the dip, underneath his jaw. It’s smooth and steady – Niall has a habit of shaking when he shaves his face. Always nervous he’ll cut himself deep, has before. But Zayn’s so focused and  _sure_.

“See,” Zayn smiles. “N’so bad.”  

Zayn shakes off the cream off the blade in the puddle of water he’d made in the sink. Niall nods, the skin thats been shaved is soft; no razor burn, no cuts. It’s clean. Niall breathes deep again.

“Now for the rest of me’ face.”

“Now for the rest,” Zayn repeats settling between his legs again.

A swift heaviness both kick starts Niall’s heart and settles it. Zayn starts to hum with his strokes, sticking his tongue out as he tilts Niall’s head to get a better angle at his chin. The hold Niall has on the toilet counter has loosened up to where his palms aren’t sweating. Distantly he know’s he could probably fall asleep like this. The rhythm of Zayn’s strokes, the soft humming, Zayn’s cologne lingering when he steps back to rinse the blade.

It’s comfortable, normal.  

At some point Niall closed his eyes. Not sure when but just that when he opens them the fluorescent lights of the hotel bathroom are too much and he squints.

“Almost done,” Zayn whispers softly, thumbing the cleft in his chin and giggling. Niall scoffs, not bothering to push him away, too lethargic and warm to argue. He closes his eyes again.

“Making fun of me’ chin?”

“Would never,” Zayn says a little too sincere. “I love it.”  

Niall stomach rolls a little and he bites his cheek to keep from smiling, feeling Zayn trim another patch of hair by the cut of his jaw.

“There,” Zayn says after a moment.

A rough cloth pushes at Niall’s chin as Zayn dabs some after shave on with a towel. It’s minty and fresh, tickling his skin. The lights burn his eyes a little as he opens them again, slowly. Zayn smiles down at him, moving closer between his legs till his hips are pushing Niall’s thighs apart. Zayn’s belt buckle clangs lightly with the counter.

“How-uh–” Niall’s tongue suddenly heavily. “How do I look?”

Zayn softly bring his hands up to cup his pristine jaw, all clean shaved and smooth. His fingers are light and fluttering against his skin, lingering sparks and tingles in their wake. Something soft and a little too intimate weights between the distance of Zayn’s lips and his and Niall wants nothing more to surge up and kiss him.

“Can I kiss you?” Niall whispers into the small space.

“Okay.”

So Niall does, feeling the roughness of Zayn’s stubble on his own hairless skin and it’s so amazing. But when they pull back, Zayn’s lips are kiss swollen and beautiful. He thumbs Niall’s chin again and pecks it cutely. Because Zayn doesn’t make it weird, and when Niall kisses him again it feels…normal.


	3. i'm the mess that has been left (to save you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Zayn comes back from the break, Niall wants him to know he can keep him safe.
> 
> \----
> 
> So this is from a dialog prompt, with both, "You came back" and "You can't protect me". I want some hurt/comfort from this _situation_ right now and well.. yeah. [throws sad confetti]
> 
> you can read it on my [tumblr](http://zayniemajik.tumblr.com/post/114196383741/zayn-and-niall-and-3-and-12).

When Zayn landed Niall was in the car waiting for him. Missed two shows, he did. It was so empty without Zayn onstage, like a missing puzzle piece, an empty spot where his face should be behind him to laugh during Harry’s solo in  _What Makes You Beautiful_ . It’s the only fun thing about performing that song anymore, turning around to see Zayn having a laugh, making a sick joke.

_Two shows_ , he thinks, taking a deep breathe of Zayn’s shampoo when he scoots into the car. They hug, well more like Niall clings and Zayn sags into his hold. It’s them and they’re alright,  _Zayn’s alright_. Which is the most important, can get stuck in his head a bit, wear’s his heart on his sleeve without realizing it. 

“You came back,” Niall says once Basil starts driving out of the parking garage of the Dubai airport. It’s quiet, Zayn straightening up by the window and adjusting his pull over. Always looks good. Niall envies him a little.

“Always do,” Zayn smiles, but in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s melancholy, tired but in a rested way that Niall knows they’ll be okay.

The whole crew eats together that night with Zayn’s favourite indian food. Niall eats some spinach cheese thing over rice that’s  _straight up_  the best meal he’s had in a while. Probably ate too much garlic Naan but who can resist?

Zayn smiles a lot, which is what the boys were hoping for. Harry makes eye contact with Niall across the dining table with a small smile, laughing with Louis and Zayn at a cheap joke Deo said. Niall smiles back at him, wide and excited before turning to Zayn who’s grinning, scrunching his noses, pushing his tongue between his teeth. Zayn’ll be good, Zayn’s alright.

They walk back to their rooms, brushing shoulders in the elevator and pushing around a little. Louis brought out some weird beer he’d found while walking around with Gemma and Lottie a few days earlier. It was good, a little too sweet for Niall’s tastes and funny enough, got him pretty tipsy, pretty fast. He’s not sloshed by any means, but Zayn’s giggling into his shoulder when they step out of the elevator on their floor.

Zayn brushes their fingers together, his eyes soft and watery when he says, “Can I stay?”

Niall resists the urge to kiss him, “Yeah–” he nods excitedly. “…definitely.”

Zayn ends up stealing a pair of his black boxers, but goes to his room to get his wash and tooth brush. They watch a spot of teley just to see the weird commercials, and laugh at the bollywood movies playing at one in the morning.

Zayn’s falling asleep on his chest when he leans down and to kiss his head, feeling good that Zayn’s back. That he’s here and the musketeers are back together, that the puzzle fits, and when he looks over his shoulder during the show Zayn’ll be there.

“You can’t protect me,” Zayn whispers suddenly in the silence. The teley flashes some car commercial in a language Niall can’t understand. It takes him a second to mull around the tiredness and contentness he feels before registering what Zayn had said. It hurts a little, so he brushes the stray hairs on Zayn’s forehead and kisses there.

“I know,” Niall says instead of a defense. Zayn’s someone who likes building walls to watch and see who tears them down, who’s willing to stick around and for the fight.

Zayn glances up at him, tightening his hold on Niall’s side as if he’s going to run away. Niall’s not going anywhere, wouldn’t ever. “But you bet your arse I’m’a try.”


	4. blame it on the alcohol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a little bit too drunk, Louis is trying to watch the game and Niall's just enjoying the show.
> 
> \----
> 
> another one of those prompts that can be found on my [tumblr](http://zayniemajik.tumblr.com/post/114198785491/jen-jennnnn-16-and-5-hl-i-will-love-u-forever)! 

Louis finally finds the United game after Niall and him tinkered with the bloody hotel teley for twenty fucking minutes. He’s rest against the headboard on Hazza’s side because he likes to steal all of the pillows like the greedy thief he is. Niall’s on the other extra king bed in their room, shouting at the screen with him. Louis goes to complain about how it’s cruel and unusual punishment for Niall not crawl over to the minibar and hand him a beer. Because it is, and it’s his and Harry’s room and Niall needs to show his respect by getting him a beer.

“I did it!” Harry swings the door open suddenly. Gemma and Lottie totter in behind him, giggling. They're all a little sloshed and Louis is inclined to kill them. But the commercials start and he’d miss Harry a little too much.

“Do what babe?” He quips, reaching out to him as he clambers onto the bed, all long limped and gangly. It’s sure a sight.

“I did the pregnancy test,” Harry says genuinely excited. “I’m not sure I passed though,” is what follows along with the whiff of something clearly alcoholic on his breath.

Niall cracks up, a loud howl from the other side of the room.

“Harold,” Louis starts. “Are you _drunk?”_

Harry gasps suddenly offended and gripping his abdomen, “Do you think it’ll hurt the baby?” 

Gemma is promptly on the floor in tears, and Louis is nervous Niall hurt himself with the cackle he just let out. Louis tries hard not to be as endeared as he currently is. Hes in love with England’s biggest idiot. But Harry sinks to sitting on his feet, looking as much like a scared puppy, thumbing the edge of his newest translucent button down and Louis loves with him.

“Harry, you aren’t pregnant.” He tries hard to sound sincere but it’s really tough. The struggles of a man in love he supposes, “Sorry to break it to you, love.”

Harry face plants into his thigh with a huff and mumbles something like, “ _Worth a try_ ”.

Louis gives a quick annoyed glance at Lottie and Gemma who are slowly recovering from another one of Harry’s antics. He can’t live with him, Louis thinks brushing the fallen strains from Harry’s bun. But sure as hell won’t live without him.  

“Never leaving you three alone together,  _again.”_ He chastises, feeling Harry fall asleep on his thigh. 

“Why?” Lottie smiles innocently from the edge of the bed. “What’s the worse that’ll happen?” 

“He’ll actually come back with some poor women’s child, that _what’ll_ happen.”

Niall laughs again, bubbling out of him every few breathes.

Harry just sighs, drunkenly on his hip, “The dream innit?” 


	5. i'll be right over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn's in love with this irish kid he met at camp and Niall's just pure sunshine. As always.
> 
> \----
> 
> this is a rando high school au based off the prompt you can find on my [tumblr](http://zayniemajik.tumblr.com/post/114227306776/ziall-and-8-please). i might write more in this weird camp 'verse, but who knows. 

Zayn smiles at his screen once Niall starts to plays another drake song on his guitar. He’s getting better each day, it’s really impressive. And Niall’s so into it that even when he misses a cord or hits the wrong string, it’s cute. Zayn’s proud of him. He’s been working so hard.

“That was Shot for me, by Drake,” Niall says royal and posh. He moves his guitar to bow slowly in his own computer chair. God, could he get any cuter? Zayn giggles.

“Ah–a song for the queen that is!”

Niall’s screen cuts out for a second as he laughs, mouth open and loud. But then a small distant noise crackles in Zayn’s head phones. He see’s Niall turn around in the little window into his room, a light from what is Niall’s bedroom door is bright on his face.

“Okay Greg–”… “Oh okay, where’s Mum’ then?”

It must be Niall’s brother. Feeling a little rude eavesdropping, Zayn starts to rip up some scrap sketchbook paper on his desk. Skype is three times better than phone calls, and Zayn hates texting. But it’s a weird, almost surreal experience when their little Skype bubble is popped because Bobby asks Niall to do his laundry, or Safaa comes running in to ask if Zayn could braid her hair.

“Oh okay! I’m just chatting with Zayn.”

Greg pops into the corner of the screen, “Hiya!”

Zayn waves shyly. Greg turns to leave, but Niall takes off his headphones, mouthing  _one minute_ , and running after Greg.

It’s a drag that Zayn only really gets to see Niall on weekends and sometimes Friday afternoon’s when Zayn get’s out of class earily. Niall goes to the secondary college in the district next to Zayn’s, lives with his mom, but sees his Dad in Ireland on long weekends. They met at a musical camp that Zayn went to last summer. Louis, his best friend, was going for theater and Zayn just likes to sing. His Nan was nice enough to foot-the-bill and he ended up meeting the possible love of his life, his second best friend and the Cheshire boy Louis has been fawning over since the summer before.

Niall bounces back into the screen and smiles brightly.

“Missed you,” he says.

Zayn laughs, feeling his cheeks burning. “It’s been like, half a minute.”

“You didn’t miss me?” Niall asks incredulously. 

“I always miss you,” Zayn admits to the pile of ripped up pieces of paper.  
   
It’s a heavy quiet when he looks up to see Niall grinning, but in a way that shows all his teeth and crinkles his eyes. It’s blinding sometimes, how bright Niall shines. Warm and filling and even through his computer screen tugs at Zayn’s heart strings. They’ve been doing this for a little over five months, but it feels like years. Like he’s loved Niall for years.

“I–uh,” Zayn starts feeling shy all of a sudden. He stubbornly knocks over his pile of shredded paper instead of looking at his screen. “I think I love you… Niall.”

“Aren’t your parents out?” Is what Niall decides to say.  

“What?” Zayn flinches a little, looking up at the screen. Niall’s grinning so hard, Zayn’s a nervous it’s straining his face. “I just said–”

“Zayn I know what you said, but are any of your sisters home?”

“Uh–Donyia took Safaa and Waliyha to the Scout sleepover. And Mum’s–”

“Out?” Niall chirps, a little eager.

“Yeah,” Zayn says, drawing his eyebrows together not sure what Niall’s getting at. “What does?”

“Zayn! You _just said_ you think you love me and I’ve been in love with you since fucking camp. Greg just gave me the keys because he’s going out so–” By this point Niall’s ripped out his headphones and is rummaging through his room to put on some proper trousers. And Zayn’s a little stunned.

“Soo…" Niall rolls his eyes pulling on his shirt. Surprise must be written all over his face because Niall follows with, "–oh you twat–”

“Hey!” Zayn laughs, a little giddy on the fact that Niall’s _in love with him_. Has been since the summer.

“I’ll be right over.” Niall says right into the computer screen before kissing the camera and signing out.

Zayn sighs a giggle, and runs his hands down his face, staring at the chat menu. He can’t wait, misses him already.

 


	6. over & over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little self indulgent fic about blow jobs and emotional sex talk. [throws penis shapped confetti] 
> 
> based off a prompt from my [tumblr](http://zayniemajik.tumblr.com/post/114233720301/7-with-ziall-ziall-is-just-the-best-tbh)!

Zayn’s a little dizzy if he’d being honest. The bed is sinking to the point where he knows he’s not getting up until Liam or Basil drag him out. Blissed out and tingling from the tips of his toes to the soft kisses Niall’s sucking into the skin of his thighs.  _Fuck_ , he missed this – the sweet sex that feels unearthly and centric in their own little world they’ve created in the sheets of this hotel room.

Niall noses his way up, giving a fleeting kiss to Zayn spent dick and giggling at the soft groan he earns in return. _Such an irish tease_ ; Zayn smiles slowly, finally tilting his head down to get a proper look at him. Looks like Niall’s spent too if the stain on the sheets at the edge of the bed are evidence of anything. Zayn loves how eager he is that the lad gets himself off just sucking dick.

Which is the cutest and sexiest Zayn’s ever seen. How can sex be so endearing? Can someone call sex cute?

Niall kisses his lipstick stain tattoo right in the center of his chest, smiling, “How long has it been?”

The question registers sluggishly, and Zayn forgets to answer for a second once Niall starts kissing him. Addicting he is, all slow and lingering breathes. It’s been too long,  _way too long_  and Zayn’s missed this and  _him_ so much that he can’t even understand why he would ever live without this. It’s mad really, he thinks.

Niall laughs breathy and soft into his ear, “What are you on then?”

“Huh?” Zayn pushes back into the pillows to look at him. The soft groove of Niall’s body pushing him into the mattress is lulling him slowly to sleep.

“You wouldn’t live without me? You missed me?”

Zayn furrows his brows, astonished that Niall would think otherwise. Sliding his hands along Niall’s jaw and thumbing his soft cheek bones. “Of course babe, I always miss you, like–”

Niall kisses him fully, shockingly hard and laughing into his mouth. Zayn’s a little too tired to kiss back, the aftershocks of his orgasm hitting him in waves and Niall’s gentle, blunt touches aren’t helping.

Yeah, Zayn thinks letting Niall tuck himself under his chin and pulling the covers over them – it’s been way too long.


	7. love you in the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt:
>
>> _“idk you but you fell asleep on my shoulder on the bus and the only reason i’m letting you stay there is bc you look very comfy and i’m a good person - it’s totally not bc you’re also possibly the cutest and most precious human being i have ever seen hahah okay maybe a lil” _au__
> 
> posted on my [tumblr](http://cowchilds.tumblr.com/post/114895199821/here-is-another-one-of-those-aus-and-im). 

Zayn doesn’t mind taking the tube to work. Prefers it to the bus, _much_ prefers it to haggling Doniya for the car at the crack of dawn, plus if he’s lucky, he gets to sit in the comfortable padded chairs. It’s a bit of a long trip, but he doesn’t have to change lines till the end so it's alright. The ride is smooth, relatively quick even if there is a train delay. He listens to his music and relaxes – it’s chill.

Today he was lucky enough to snag a seat. To add even more to his morning routine, he has possibly the cutest boy he’s ever seen asleep on his shoulder.

Zayn’s a nice guy though. He truly tries his best by Allah and his mom so he let’s the poor lad sleep on. Doesn’t disturb him as he breathes lowly on Zayn’s neck.

And Zayn’s seen him a few times on the tube. Mostly in the morning on his way to work, usually has his headphones in, or is drumming beats on his hard guitar case some early Tuesdays. Zayn likes to stare at him, relish in how bright he shines, how grumpy he looks curled around his station brew tea that cost half a pound on (what Zayn assumes) are the harsher mornings.

Zayn never knows though–really. He always is on the tube before Zayn gets on and leaves the stop before. Sometimes if he’s awake enough, Zayn earns a smile for his staring before the boy leaves. After months of lingering glances and embarrassing blatant ogling, here the blonde is, half asleep on Zayn’s shoulder. Miracles happen in weird ways he supposes.

While changing the song on his ipod, the boy yawns, rubbing his nose into Zayn’s jaw. He smells nice. Amber, and pine or some fancy shit thats more expensive than what Zayn wears. 

Then the boy starts to cuddle closer, looping his arm around Zayns and digging his cheek into the soft denim coat Zayn bought a month ago from a thrift store. It’s heavy but not so much so that he’s sweating, and he’s glad that it’s comfortable enough that Blonde can use it as a pillow to his train ride slumber.

Zayn wonders briefly if it’s a good icebreaker for when he wakes up,  _Hi you just slept on me for eight stops, it was cute and you didn’t drool at all, could I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?_  No, not smooth enough.   _There’s a couch at my house that has your name on it, only if you give it to me._  Wow, Zayn – not creepy at all.

While thinking of his tenth horrible pick up line (seriously, how does Zayn even talk to people?) the boy slowly retracts his cheek from his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to recognize the fact that he practically used Zayn as a human mattress until he licks his lips, glances at the coat shoulder, then at Zayn.

Zayn tries to smile but it feels more like a grimace, “Morning.”

_“Jesus_ ,” is the first thing that comes out of the boy’s mouth and Zayn laughs.

“Thank you? I think.”

“No, no– _shit_ I’m so sorry.” The boy sits up quickly, seems to panic as he detangles his linked arms with Zayn’s. It’s calming, funnily enough. “I didn’t mean–I just–M’sorry.”

“No,” Zayn grins. “S’fine, seriously mate.” Blonde continues to look panicked and embarrassed as all hell. Almost like a tiny irish tomato, he is. Zayn tries to be empathic instead of ridiculously, heart warmingly endeared.

“I’ve done it a few times, mate, no worries,” he lies with a shrug.

“Really?”

Zayn swallows the truth with a curt, “Yeah, definitely.”  

Blonde seems to relax significantly but still a little wired from the shock. He tugs at his sleep mangled hair and Zayn has to bite his lip to stop himself from helping.

“Just a long night. It was tough getting out of bed this mornin’ .”

“It happens,” Zayn nods wanting to touch the fire red flush his ear’s have, just to see if they’re actually as hot as they look. Could start a fire with them, and Zayn is so charmed his chest hurts. “But I would watch out who you fall asleep on, next time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like,” Zayn rubs his lip to think, glancing down the train. He notices the boy’s stare at his mouth, before saying, “Like, that women over there with the cane. She’d wamp you with it before you even put your head down.”

“ _Wamp_  me?” Blonde repeats with a suppressed chuckle.

“Yeah, concussion and all. I’d watch out for her.”

Blonde laughs and Zayn smiles wide.

“Well thank you for your services I guess…” the blonde grins shyly. It seems like a goodbye and Zayn doesn’t want him to go. Glancing at the tube map he realizes the boy’s stop is next, and caught up in his ' _please don't leave, not yet'_  misses what Blonde said.

“What?”

Blonde flushes bright red again, “I was um, wondering that– if I see you on the train I could, possibly fall asleep on you again. If thats alright?”

Zayn lets a chuckle slip away and nods, “Sounds alright.”

“I’m Niall, by the way,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. The tube eases to stop, and Zayn shakes his hand.

“Zayn.”

“See you tomorrow morning then?” Niall blushes, letting go of Zayn’s hand but doesn’t move to leave even as the doors open.

“Yeah, I promise.”

He nods excitedly, but still doesn’t go to move as the doors alert to close.

“S’your stop mate.”  

“Oh!” Blonde,  _Niall_ , rushes from Zayn with a grin, almost missing the doors by the second. He waves cutely on the platform as the train passes, still shining beet red. 

Zayn wishes for tomorrow morning already. 

 


	8. house of cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Teach me then?” Zayn grins, wondering how Niall’s blunt fingers play so fluid on the fret, how does he make this seem easy? Maybe the guitar, the music will fill him with something the way it fills Niall. Or the way Niall fills him. 
> 
> “Teach me how to play?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this is for a dialog prompt, "Teach me how to play?" for the amazing pia. you can read it on my [tumblr](http://cowchilds.tumblr.com/post/114945848826/ziall-and-10-please-ily) with the link to the song niall's playing.

He knows who it is the second he opens the door.

Familiar tunes and strokes that are lulling in a way that Zayn gets tired with each step. Wistful and warm – the tele fuzzing in the background, chilled out rooms and warm blankets, a thin layer of knowledge of how blunt those fingers feel as they pluck away. Musically aware of touch, he reckons. Or he could just be pissed as hell. The half empty beer in his hand a reminder of Louis and Liam going off to bed after raiding the bar with Zayn in tow.

But Zayn finally finds his resolve to finish it regardless of it being warm by now, and pushes off the balcony doorway. Niall isn’t usually alone. He’s said before that it doesn’t necessarily scare him, it just feels daunting. He’s not big enough to fill such a space so he fills it with Willie, or Mark, sometimes he fills it with Zayn.

Which is okay. Zayn likes being needed, being loved, but Niall is just a lot to take in, in the best way. Loud and bright when Zayn is quite the opposite. The silence, being alone doesn’t scare him like it does the others, but holds a comfort, helps him arrange the cards in his deck of things to share and to be alright.

Niall is a consistent royal flush. Always put together neat, accurate, ready to win, while Zayn ranges from being 52 card pick up and a three card hand at best.

He throws his empty cup into the garbage loudly, enough time for Niall to shoo him away. Zayn doesn’t know why thats his go-to reaction of people, to push him away. But Niall never does, turning around in the plastic recliner chair on the balcony to smile, letting go of the fret to extend out his hand. Always reaching for Zayn, keeping him here. Zayn smiles despite feeling so heavy.

“ _I saw a friend of mine the other day_ …” Niall continues singing despite stopping to link his finger’s with Zayn’s. “ _And he told me that my eye-ee-e’s were gleamin’, Oh I said I had been away, and he knew._..”

Zayn eases onto the lawn chair to sit at his feet and their fingers unravel. The spaces where Niall was squeezing like he didn’t want to let go linger in their wake, so Zayn smiles down at his hands, adjusting his rings to the feel of it.

“ _Oh, he knew the depths I was meanin_ ’,” Niall picked up where he left off at his guitar. “.. _and it felt so good to see his face or the comfort invested in my soul_.”

Niall does this to him. Stuffs him full of light heartedness that every card in the deck can be wisped away, picked up and placed back together.

“ _Oh to feel the warmth of a smile_ …” Zayn doesn’t feel insecure because Niall doesn’t let him. Picks him up, and would carry him through the storm and they both know that. “… _when he said ‘I’m happy to have you home. Ooh I’m happy to have you home_.”

Niall glances down at his guitar, scrunches up his nose and plays the chorus quickly without lyrics before breathing deep. Zayn wants to kiss him and hold him up in his chest so Zayn could always be happy, could always feel like a good hand of cards.

“Teach me then?” Zayn grins, wondering how Niall’s blunt fingers play so fluid on the fret, how does he make this seem easy. Maybe the guitar, the music will fill him with something the way it fills Niall. Or the way Niall fills him.

“Teach me how to play?”

“What? Ben Howard?” Niall says plucking a few random chords. Zayn shrugs. Niall could teach him how to play the Mario Kart theme song if he wanted, as long as Niall’s the one showing him, Zayn doesn’t care.

“Whatev’s really, just want to play.”

“Yeah okay.”

Niall scoots himself forward so their knees are touching and passes the guitar to him. It clamors and echos as Zayn settles it in his lap, adjusting it to how Niall had it in his hands. He runs his thumb down the strings to hear it play.

“S’in tune. Matched it this morning so it should be good,” Niall supplies suddenly a lot closer than before.

“Alright, so the intro to it is a little tricky but it goes, dun, du dun dun, du dun duna–” He shuffles Zayn’s hands on the fret and slowly plays the intro. The heat lingers where Niall’s directing his hand so Zayn giggles. “Ya’wanna learn or what?”

“Yeah, I do. Yeah.”

“Okay,” Niall smiles bright staring up at him through his lashes and Zayn loves him.

“Okay so then it goes G and EM,” Niall continues to push Zayn’s fingers on the fret and having him strum along, repeating the first few notes before progressing. It isn’t until Zayn successfully gets through the intro and the first verse that Niall cheers.

“Okay, now again,” Niall bounces on the chair. It creaks underneath him and Zayn totters a bit, scared the plastic wraps on the chair will break.

“Again?”

“Yeah, ready?”

Zayn starts slow, misses a few beats, but goes back again until the verse starts. It startles him for a second as Niall starts to sing, “ _I spent my time watchin’ the spaces that have grown between us_ …” Zayn doesn’t want him to stop so he tries his hardest to keep in beat even as his fingertips seem to ache.

“.. _And I cut my mind on second best or the scars that come with the greeness, and I gave my eyes to the boredom, still the seabed wouldn’t let me in, and I tried my best to embrace the darkness in which I swim_ …”

Something sharp twists in Zayn’s chest as Niall sings, it’s harsh and it hurts. He tries his best to play through it, picking up the pace as Niall sings. He's calming in a way no one Zayn’s ever met is; Niall bandages the holes Zayn likes to make for himself to crawl into, to fall away. Niall’s always reaching and encouraging. It isn’t until Zayn gets to the chorus, playing a bit off key that he knows why Niall picked this song to play.

“ _Keep your head up, keep your heart strong, No, no no, keep your mind safe, keep your head low– oh my my darling, Keep your head up, keep your heart strong, keep your mind set in your ways, keep your heart strong, ooh_..”

Zayn stops playing to look at Niall, still drumming the beat on his knee and playing the lyrics in his head. It’s familiar in a way that Zayn never wants anything else to fill his holes like Niall does. Refreshing and completely addicting that Niall laughs as Zayn reaches forward and knocks their foreheads together. Just trying to catch some of that laughter, Zayn tilts and kisses him, relishing in how Niall kisses back with all his happiness and his benevolence.

“How’d I do babe?” Zayn kisses his smile again before leaning back a bit, watching the flush on Niall’s chest catch up to his ears.

“Eh–” Niall pouts his lips. “Could use a bit of practice.”

“Good thing I got you then,” Zayn strums absently on the chords.

“Always got me.”

Zayn knows it’s true – that even if he folds, Niall never minds playing 52 card pickup.


End file.
